


Six Months of Winter

by hayj



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:07:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21819577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: Charlie offers herself to General Monroe
Relationships: Charlie Matheson/Bass Monroe
Comments: 31
Kudos: 140





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's time for the yearly Christmas dump of google docs. Enjoy.

“Take the kids back to their cell and shoot the boy if she does anything,” Monroe instructed Strausser as he turned on his heel to leave. 

“Wait!” Charlie cried out, taking a step forward only to have Strausser’s hand reach out to painfully squeeze her shoulder. 

Running his eyes over her once again, Monroe tilted his head. “Bring her along,” he told the guards, turning to be on his way. 

“Charlie! Charlie, no!” Rachel called out before being restrained by a guard as Danny was pulled along behind Charlie to be taken back to his cell.

* * *

Entering the room that he had claimed as his office, Monroe undid the buttons on his coat as he made his way behind his desk, watching as the guard escorting Charlotte pushed her along hard enough to cause her to stumble. 

Straightening, she glared at the man and Bass had no doubt she’d kill him given half a chance. 

“You’re dismissed,” Bass told the soldier, waiting for him to close the door behind him. Taking a seat, Bass waved his hand in front of him. “Speak.”

“You don’t look like I expected,” Charlie replied, planting her feet.

Bass couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I don’t suppose I do. How can I help you, Miss Matheson?”

“If you let them go, I’ll stay. Willingly.” 

The smile fell off of Bass’ face as he sat up, intrigued by the offer. “Why would you do that?” he asked, running a finger over his lips. 

“You want a hostage. I’m offering you one.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, Charlotte.” 

“I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

Getting to his feet, Bass shrugged off his jacket, throwing it over the back of his chair before moving around to the front of his desk and leaning against it, watching as Charlie took a step backwards.

“It’s not that simple, Charlotte. I need Rachel to finish that amplifier.”

Looking down at her hands, her brain whirring, Charlie lifted her head to meet his eyes. “My friends, too, then.”

“Excuse me?” he asked with a smirk, amused that she thought she had any leverage in this scenario. 

“Mom stays and finishes your amplifier and then you let her, Danny, Aaron and Nora go, and you don’t hurt Miles.”

“Miles?” Monroe questioned leaning forward, causing Charlie to take another step backwards. “Do you know where he’s at?”

“No,” Charlie shrugged, “but knowing Miles, he be along shortly.”

Standing, Monroe stuck his hand out. “I think we’ve reached an agreement, Miss Matheson.”

Charlie’s brow furrowed as she twisted the fingers of one hand. “Just to make things clear, what are we shaking on?” 

“Rachel finishes the amplifier, your family and friends are released, I don’t hurt Miles and you stay here willingly as my guest and in your words, ‘do anything that I ask of you’.”

With trepidation, Charlie met the man’s eyes, placing her hand in his. 

“You are something else, Charlotte Matheson,” Bass commented, raising her hand to press a kiss against her knuckles. 

Charlie blushed, ducking her head at the familiarity before finding her voice once again. “Would you allow me to see Danny, so I could explain?” 

“On one condition,” Bass said, coming a step closer as he continued to hold her hand.

“What’s that?” Charlie asked, swallowing thickly as he reached up with his free hand and pushed her hair behind her ear. 

“That you call me Bass.”

“Could I please see my brother…Bass?”

“Of course,” he answered before leaning closer. “You really shouldn’t believe everything you hear, Charlotte.” 

Charlie simply hummed as he called out for the guard and issued the order. 

“Please, make yourself comfortable, I have some paperwork to attend to,” he explained, waving to a couch placed under the windows.

* * *

Charlie watched out the windows while she waited, looking for any sign of her uncle until there was a knock at the door. 

“Enter!” Monroe called out, looking up from his paperwork to see Jeremy and Danny enter the room. With a nod of his head, Jeremy released the young man’s arm. 

Looking to Charlotte who appeared to be holding her breath as she watched him, Bass tilted his head in the boy’s direction. 

That tilt was all Charlie needed as she let out the breath she was holding and rushed to her brother, who was obviously confused at the turn of events, and pulled him into a hug.

“Visit for as long as you’d like, Charlotte,” Bass said, watching the reunion. 

“Thank you, B-Bass,” Charlie replied, looking over at him before hustling her brother other to the couch.

“Bass?” Jeremy mouthed in his friend’s direction.

“Captain Baker, Miss Matheson thinks there’s a good chance we could be expecting a visitor later. He’s not to be injured.”

Looking between the girl and his boss with a frown, Jeremy finally nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

Closing the door behind him, Jeremy shook his head as he made his way downstairs. 

Eyeing the siblings for a moment after Jeremy left, Bass turned back to the reports in front of him.

Looking over at Bass out of the corner of her eye, Charlie held her brothers’ hands in her own as she struggled to find the words she needed to explain this to him.

It was Danny that finally broke the silence. “What did you do?”

“As soon as Mom gets done with the amplifier, you’re being released along with Aaron and Nora.”

“And what about you?” Danny asked when she refused to look at him. 

“Charlie? What about you?” he asked more urgently. 

“I’m staying here with…Bass. Willingly. As his guest,” she replied, finally meeting his eyes. 

Pulling her forward, Danny wrapped his arms around her as she laid her head on his shoulder. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he whispered. 

“Yes, I did,” she whispered back. “I need you to make them understand that I did this of my own free will and that they’re not to rescue me. No matter what. Can you do that?” she asked, pulling away. 

“I can try,” Danny sighed. 

Finally, they settled in on the couch and Charlie shared the news about Maggie and how Aaron had volunteered to come with them and about their Uncle Miles. 

Bass kept his head down, appearing as though he was engrossed in his work as he listened to them banter back and forth, learning as much as he could about his new guest. 

After a while, lunch was brought in and the siblings joined him at the table on the other side of the room, and they politely, but uncomfortably, conversed over the food until the sound of gunfire rang out. 

“That would be Miles,” Bass sighed, throwing his napkin down on the table. Getting to his feet, he grabbed his coat as a guard rushed in. “Take the General’s nephew back to his cell and stay with him. I don’t want one hair harmed while he’s under your care, do you understand?” Bass barked. 

“Yes sir!, the guard replied smartly, looking confused on what he should do now as Charlie was clinging to her brother. 

“I love you, Danny,” she whispered as Bass laid his hand gently upon her shoulder. 

“He needs to go with the guard now, Charlotte.”

Charlie nodded, letting go of her brother as the guard took him by the arm. 

“Stay here until I call for you,’ Bass instructed her as he followed them out the door, “and Charlotte, do try to stay out of trouble.”

* * *

Charlie sat listening to the commotion going on below her until everything went silent and Captain Baker burst into the room. 

“You’re up sweetheart,” he announced, waving her over, taking care not to touch her. “Down the stairs and to your left.”

Charlie nodded, her chest heaving as she made her way downstairs, stopping at the bottom. 

“Charlotte, you’re Uncle’s here,” Bass called out loudly, holding his hand out to her, even though he hadn’t once looked back at her. 

Looking back at Jeremy, who simply raised his brow in challenge, Charlie slowly made her way to Bass, reaching out to take his hand. 

“Charlie?” Miles asked, looking at her in horror as she came to stand by Bass. 

“Hey, Miles,” she replied, putting a shaky smile on her face. 

“Charlie, what’s going on?” 

“As soon as Mom gets the amplifier finished, Bass is going to let you and mom and everyone else go.” 

“Your mom? Rachel’s alive?” Miles asked, looking at the three people standing in front of him.

“I need you to take care of her and Danny, okay?” Charlie pleaded, her voice shaking.

“Hey, you’re going to be there to help me,” he said, assuring her or himself she wasn’t sure. 

Charlie swallowed thickly, looking at Bass who had laid his hand on her shoulder, using his thumb to stroke the exposed skin. 

“No, I won’t,” she replied, looking back at her uncle. “Bass and I agreed that in exchange for letting all of you go, I would stay here as his guest. Willingly. For as long as he wants.”

“NO! NO!” Miles roared, charging towards them, only to be tackled by the guards surrounding them.

“No! Don’t hurt him! Please Bass, you promised!” Charlie yelled as she turned towards him, hands grasping at his jacket. 

“Calm yourself, Charlotte,” Bass soothed, motioning to his soldiers. “He’ll be put in the same cell as Danny and released at the same time as everyone else. Aaron and Nora have already arrived and are waiting downstairs as well.”

Being forced to his feet, Miles lunged forward again. “I’ll kill you, Bass! You lay one finger on her and I’ll kill you!” he screamed as they drug him along. 

Charlie looked horrified as they led her uncle away. “You promised they wouldn’t hurt him.”

“And they won’t,” Bass assured her, taking her by the elbow and leading her back up the stairs. Entering his office, he went to a metal locker and pulled out a pillow and blanket. “It’s bound to be a long evening. Why don't you try to get some rest,” he offered, moving back towards his desk. 

Charlie drug her feet over to the couch, curling up in a corner. Dragging the blanket over her, she eventually fell asleep to the sound of Bass’ pen scratching against linen paper. 

* * *

“Charlotte. Charlotte.” 

Sucking in a breath, Charlie sat up straight, blinking her way back to consciousness. “What’s wrong?” she asked, looking up at Bass. 

“Nothing’s wrong. Rachel’s done with the amplifier. I thought you might like to see your family make their escape before we watch one of my machines in action.” 

Taking the hand he held out, Charlie got to her feet and followed him out onto the scaffolding attached to the building, making their way to a high vantage point close to one of the walls. 

Looking down at her, Bass pointed to where Rachel, Miles and the rest of her family had just emerged out into the nearby field from the building. 

Fisting her hands, Charlie watched as they began to run across the field, taking a step forward when Rachel turned back to look at them. When she started back towards them, Miles wrapped a hand around her waist, yelling at her, before looking back towards Bass and Charlie. When he drug Rachel backwards towards the nearby woods, Charlie released the breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

A moment later, something whooshed to life behind her. Turning, along with Bass, she watched as the helicopter below come to life, her mouth falling open as one of them rose from the ground. Stepping backwards, she watched in awe as the machine took flight in the opposite direction of her family. 

“My mother did that?” she asked as it disappeared into the distance. 

“Yes,” Bass replied with a nod and a smile as it began to make its way back towards them. “Well, I think that's enough excitement for today. Why don’t we head home. I’m sure cook will have dinner ready soon.”

* * *

His horse was waiting for them when they emerged from the power plant. Mounting, Bass held his hand out, grabbing onto Charlie as she reached up and slid her foot into the stirrup, pulling her up behind him. 

It was only after they rode through the city gates that he finally spoke.

“We’ll have dinner first. By then your room should be ready and plenty of water heated for a bath. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”

Charlie remained silent, taking in the people that they passed. They seemed wary, but not overly frightened and that gave her hope that maybe the man whose waist she had her arms wrapped around wasn’t as crazy as Miles and Nora had made him out to be. 

“Home, Sweet Home,” he murmured, over his shoulder as they arrived at Independence Hall. Holding out his hand, she grasped on, lowering herself to the ground. 

Looking up at the building that’s become her self-appointed prison, Charlie heaved a sigh as Bass watched on in amusement, waiting to see if she held up her end of the bargain. 


	2. Chapter 2

Squaring her shoulders, Charlie marched past him into the foyer, lifting a brow at his silent questioning.

“Instruct the cook I’ll be dining in the breakfast room with a guest. The rooms next to mine need to be cleaned and made up and water heated for two baths,” Bass told a nearby guard, without taking his eyes off of her. 

“Yes, Mr. President,” the soldier saluted, hurrying off to relay the orders.

Holding out his hand in the direction of the stairs, Bass turned to Charlie. “This way, please.” He watched as she gave him a tight nod and moved towards the stairs, leaving him time to ruminate upon her appearance. 

She carried herself with ease of grace, confident in her abilities. For having grown up in the backwoods of Wisconsin, he truly expected worse. Obviously Ben and her step-mother had gone to great lengths in order to see to her education. He’d have to probe and see in which areas she lacked, if any. In the meantime, he’d find someone, Julia perhaps, to see that she was properly groomed and dressed. 

As they reac hed the top of the stairs, Charlie stopped, turning back to look at him. 

Walking ahead of her, he opened the middle door on the right, revealing a long room that contained a table for four and a buffet near the door while the rest of the room gave way to dark wood shelves, lined with books, a fireplace, with two wingback chairs perched nearby, along with a writing desk. The chandeliers had long since been turned into candle holders, whose light flickered merrily. 

“It’s called the breakfast room, but we use it for any meal in which there aren’t guest’s,” he explained, closing the door behind her. “Have a seat, please,” he motioned to the table, heading towards the buffet. Opening a cabinet, he pulled out two glasses, filling them with ice. Adding a splash of amber colored liquid and water to one glass, Bass handed it to her before fixing his own. 

“It’s my understanding that you grew up in Wisconsin,” Bass said, sitting in a chair across from her. 

“How do you know that?” Charlie asked, a crinkle in her brow. 

“Jason Neville gave a somewhat thorough report regarding his i nteractions with yourself and your traveling companions,” Bass replied, taking a sip of his drink, watching as her cheeks pinked. He wondered if it was a crush or something more. There would be time to figure it out. 

“Yes, it was a small village with good people. Unfortunately many of them were killed by your men. Including my father.”

“I’m very sorry for that, Charlotte. I simply wanted him found. It was never my intent that something should happen to him.”

“Like you wanted my mother found?” She asked, taking a large gulp of her drink. 

“It seems as though we have much to discuss,” he replied, looking up at the knock on the door. 

“Come!” he called out, remaining in his chair.

The door opened and several maids came bustling in. Rolling a cart between them, they set the table with food laden china before leaving the way they came. 

“Ah, cook outdid herself tonight,” Bass said, laying a napkin across his lap. 

Looking down, Charlie took in her artfully prepared plate. There was a thin piece of chicken wrapped around asparagus spears, smothered in a creamy cheese sauce along with some roasted potatoes and glazed carrots. Fresh baked rolls sat in a basket along with a small crock of butter. 

Reaching for her own napkin Charlie moved slowly, waiting until Bass began cutting his chicken before reaching for her silverware. They ate in silence for a few a while before Bass sat back and reached for his wine. 

“Do you remember the day your mother left, Charlie?”

“Yes. I remember it quite well.” 

Bass tilted his head as he took a sip from his glass. “Does anything in particular stand out in your mind?”

“That she was going to be gone for months getting supplies, but yet we moved that same day.”

“That was because Miles had found you,” Bass explained watching her closely.

“I...I don’t understand,” Charlie replied with a shake of her head.

“Miles had found your family. He came to Ben and Rachel, explained that he wanted to bring you all here to Philly and they agreed. He gave them till the next day to pack and get you and Danny ready to travel, but only your mom showed up. Ben took you and your brother and disappeared. 

“Why? Why would they do that?” she asked.

“I think that Rachel probably wanted to be with Miles, but that’s just speculation on my part.”

Stunned at the implication, Charlie fell silent, turning back to her meal as she pondered over that thought. She knew nothing about her parents, not really. Especially when you consider that they had never said anything about being involved in the blackout. She finished her dinner on autopilot. 

“Are you finished?” He asked after a bit. 

Jerking her head up, Charlie blinked as if surprised he was sitting across from her. “Ah...yes,” she agreed, laying her fork on her plate and wiping her mouth as Bass filled their glasses once again. 

“Let me give you a tour of our suite.”

Charlie’s eyes flashed with fear as he pulled her chair out and waited for her hand. “Bring your wine,” he reminded her.

Picking up her glass, she allowed him to keep a hold of her hand. “You’re welcome to use this room anytime you like, after all, this is your home now as well,” he told her as he opened a door to his right. “This door leads to my personal sitting room, he explained leading her into the room, “and just through there is my bedroom.”

Motioning her back into the library, he crossed the room to the other side. “These were Miles’s rooms when he lived here. They’re yours now,” he told her as he walked through the suite back to the bedroom. With a sigh, Charlie trailed along behind him. Bass walked around the room, running a finger over various surfaces, until he was satisfied with the cleanliness of the room. “I haven’t been here since he left,” he explained, turning to face her as he took a drink from his glass. “I hope you find it acceptable.”

“It’s beautiful,” Charlie replied, walking around the room. The furniture was heavy and dark, but the maids had hung muslin from the posters and windows, lighting the room and had dressed the bed in pale peach. There were several bouquets of fresh flowers and a brush and comb sat on the mirrored dresser along with silver glass bottles of fragrance topped with silver stoppers. 

Coming up behind her, Bass lifted one of the bottles. “Wear this one for me tomorrow?” he asked. 

“Of course,” she replied, slipping away from him to wander towards the other door in the room. It turned out to be the bathroom with an honest to god's tub. “Oh,” she sighed.

Bass smiled at her response. “Your water will be here any moment,” he said just as there was a knock at the door. Walking over, he let the stream of men pass him with their buckets of water. Waiting till they left, he moved towards the library door. “I’ll leave you to settle in. Goodnight, Charlotte.”

“Goodnight,” Charlie replied.

* * *

“Good morning,” Bass said with a smile, as he and Jeremy stood from where they sat reading at the breakfast table. “You look wonderful. As Jeremy always says, there’s nothing a hot bath and a good night's sleep can’t cure.”

“Miss Matheson,” Jeremy addressed with a nod. 

“”Join us,” Bass continued, moving around to pull her chair out.

“You don’t have to do that,” Charlie said as she took a seat. 

“There’s no excuse not to be a gentleman,” Bass replied, leaning down next to her ear as he sniffed softly. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, before moving back to his own seat. “Help yourself,” he said, louder this time as he waved towards the food laden table.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Jeremy asked as he sat back with his coffee cup. 

Charlie raised her head, looking between he and Bass. 

Bass reached over and stroked Charlie’s arm. “I’ve had Rachel’s journal brought over from her rooms. I thought Charlie might like to spend the day reading them and keeping me company.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Jeremy asked, looking at Bass skeptically. 

“Of course. It’s the least I can do after keeping Charlotte away from her mother for so long.”

“Uh huh” Jeremy replied, taking a drink of his coffee. “Maybe tomorrow you can join me for some sparring. From the reports it sounds as though Miles was teaching you sword work and some hand to hand.”

“I can hold my own.”

“I bet you can, Princess,” Jeremy replied with a wink before turning back to Bass. 

After breakfast they walked downstairs together where Jeremy said his goodbyes and Bass guided Charlie into his office. 

“There’ll be a seamstress here after lunch, until then, feel free,” he offered, waving towards a seating area across the room. “Anything you want, just ask.”

“Thank you,” Charlie replied, making her way towards the couch near the fireplace. There she found a stack of journals, a plate of baked goods and a carafe of coffee. Making herself a cup, she picked up a journal and settled back. 

When Major Neville was announced, Charlie looked up from her mother’s journal with a frown. 

“Tom, what can I help you with today?” Bass asked, leaning back in his chair. 

“I was just told that you’re keeping the Matheson girl here. Are you sure that’s wise, Sir?” 

“Are you questioning my judgement, Tom?” 

“No, of course not, Sir. I just worry about her family, and my son seems to have a soft spot for the girl. I’d just hate for anything to happen.”

“Am I going to have to worry about you running away with young Neville, Charlotte?” Bass asked, turning in his chair to look at her.

“Of course not, Bass,” Charlie answered, looking at Tom with a sugary smile.

Tom visibly blanched. “Miss Matheson. I was unaware of your presence.”

“Obviously,” she replied, arching a brow in Bass’ direction before turning back to her reading.

“Perhaps, if you’re afraid that your son is going to be a threat to Miss Matheson's safety, we should assign him to the field.”

“No! I mean, that won’t be necessary, Sir. I’ll make sure to keep the boy in line.”

“Is that all?” Bass asked. 

“Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir,” Tom replied with a sharp nod, glaring at Charlie on his way out. 

“I would say that Tom is not your biggest fan.”

“The feeling’s mutual," Charlie replied as she refilled her cup.

"And you're sure there's nothing between you and Jason."

“Does it matter?” Charlie asked, looking up to meet his eyes. 

“Not as long as you understand that it won't be tolerated.”

"I understand," she answered, swallowing thickly as she blinked back her tears. 

“Good,” Bass replied, looking her up and down before turning back to his work. 

Blowing out a breath, Charlie tried to get her emotions under control. The last thing she wanted to do was to break down in front of him. 

They stayed like that for another hour, the silence between them deafening when Charlie suddenly gasped and slammed the journal that lay in her lap shut.

“Charlotte?” Bass questioned getting to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

Charlie shook her head, unbelieving as he made his way to her, taking a seat beside her on the couch.

Reaching out, he took her hand, running soothing circles with his thumb along her palm. “Is it something you’ve read?”

“So it’s true,” she choked out, raising her teary eyes to his. “About my mom and Miles.”

Bass sighs and runs a hand up and down her spine. “Yes. They had an affair. It lasted the first couple of years after your parents married. They’d see each other anytime we were home for leave.”

“And I’m…am I?” she looked at him beseechingly.

Bass shrugged. “I don’t know, Charlotte. I’ve always had my suspicions, but Rachel was the only one who knew for sure.”

“How could they do that? How could they do that to my dad?” she asked tearfully.

Scooting closer, Bass pulled her against him, “I’m so sorry, Charlotte,” he whispered next to her ear as she buried her face into his shoulder, letting out the stress of the last few days.

With a smile, Bass leaned back against the couch, continuing to give comfort.

Once Charlie had calmed down, she drew away from the man, embarrassed that she had let her emotions overcome her to the point she was crying on his shoulder. She hated this man, didn’t she?

Standing, Monroe pulled her to her feet along with him. “Why don’t you go upstairs and freshen up. I’ll send the seamstress to you when she arrives.”

“Alright,” Charlie replied with a sniffle, taking the handkerchief that he handed her. “Thank you,”

“Of course, Charlotte,” Monroe replied, pressing a kiss on her forehead before letting her go.


	3. Chapter 3

Spending the afternoon with the seamstress, Charlie was assured that she would have practically an entire new wardrobe by tomorrow morning. Evidently the President paid well enough that she could have a dozen women work throughout the night and still make a tidy profit. 

Once the woman left, Charlie spent the afternoon sitting in her room, looking out the window that faced the rear garden until there was a knock at her door. 

She turned her head when the door opened a moment later. 

“Charlotte. Why are you sitting here in the dark. It’s horrible for your eyes,” Bass scolded as he lit a candle on the dresser and moved throughout the room, lighting the rest. “There, that’s better. Now, let me take a look at you,” he said, coming to stand in front of her. “You look much better. I hope the tea I sent up helped.”

“It did. Thank you,” she replied. 

“Are you ready for dinner? The maids are on their way up as we speak.”

“I could eat,” she answered with a soft smile. 

Helping her to her feet, Bass placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her into the breakfast room where the maids were just setting the table as he promised. 

She waited until they were settled across from each other before speaking. “Bass, would you tell me a story about Miles?”

“Of course,” he answered, looking her in the eyes. “I’ll tell you as many stories as you want.” 

There was a warm glow in Charlie’s belly as she watched Bass animatedly wave his hands around as he told her a story involving he and Miles as children, admiring the way his eyes crinkled in the corner and the small dimple that appeared when he was truly smiling. It was a warm smile. Not the cool and assessing smile he gave his men. It’s a smile that could give way to belly laughs and teasing as he tugged at her hair during one of his stories. 

When he finally wished her a goodnight with a kiss to her temple, she found herself with a sudden longing in her chest.

* * *

The next morning she woke late and was met with an empty library and a note that instructed her to request her breakfast from the guards and when she was finished to come to his office. 

She wandered around the room, running her fingers across rows of books until her breakfast was delivered. She took her time eating, and read the paper that Bass had left on the table after his own meal.

Once she was finished, Charlie washed her face and hands before opening the door to her room. "Could you take me to the President, please?" she requested of the guard.

She followed him down the stairs and through the halls until they stopped in front of a set of double doors. The man standing guard there knocked on the door and a moment later, they heard the President’s voice call out. 

The guard nodded at her and Charlie grasped the doorknob, letting herself in. 

“Charlotte, thank you for coming,” Bass said, rising from his seat to meet her. “Gentlemen,” he announced to the men at the table, whom had all risen to their feet, “This is Charlotte Matheson, General Matheson’s niece.” There was a smattering of murmurs as her presence was acknowledged.

Taking her hand, Bass drew her towards the table, sitting her in the now vacant chair next to him.

“Charlotte, I overheard you and Danny speaking about your village. What can you tell us about it?

Charlie looked at the faces around the table before settling back on Bass. “It was a small village in Wisconsin called Sylvania Estates.” She paused for a moment as Bass looked at Jeremy and the book in front of him pointedly. “We produced assorted crops, mainly corn, and hunted and fished to supplement our stores, but, after paying the taxes, it was never enough to get us through the winter.”

“And do you know how much the taxes were?” Bass asked.

Charlie nodded. “Thirty-five percent.”

“You’re sure?” Jeremy asked, looking at the numbers in front of him.

“Yes. We had monthly meetings as the taxes were everyone's responsibility.”

“And what about your brand?” Bass asked.

Wrapping her hand around her wrist Charlie bowed her head. “The Militia took a boy. We were helping to get him back.” 

“How old was this boy?” 

“Sixteen.”

“Thank you, Charlotte,” Bass replied, getting back to his feet. Holding out his hand, he helped her stand, walking her over to the door. ‘Stay out of trouble until I can join you?”

“I don’t break my promises.” 

“Let the guards know where you’ll be.”

With a nod, Charlie slipped out of the room as Bass turned back to his men a frown on his face. 

“Jeremy, how much are the taxes supposed to be for Miss Matheson’s village?”

Jeremy sighed. “Eight houses. Eight percent.”

“Eight percent, but yet the local garrison has collected thirty-five. And on top of that we’re conscripting children! Is it any wonder we’re falling apart from the inside out?” he bellowed, slamming his fist on the table. 

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, Bass walked over to pour himself a drink. Taking a long swallow, he relished the burn down his throat. “I want a solution to this problem on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

“What about the Rebels?” Jeremy asked. 

Bass turned his back to the room, looking out the windows. “Complete the raids scheduled for today. That should knock them down long enough for all of you to figure out how to set this right.”

Exchanging looks amongst themselves, Jeremy and the rest of his men got to their feet and quietly let themselves out of the room. 

Downing the rest of his drink, Bass went in search of his guest.

* * *

“Charlotte,” Bass called out as he found her walking the paths in the garden. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” he said, reaching out to stroke the silky petal of the flower next to him.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen quite so many flowers in one place,” she replied.

Taking her elbow, Bass guided her along the paths. “Thank you for sharing your story today. It was important to make them understand that there's a reason the rebels act the way they do.” 

“There’s many reasons why the rebels act the way they do,” Charlie replied with a roll of her eyes, “Not just because of the outrageous taxes.”

“Really?” Bass asked, his eyes narrowing in annoyance as his fingers tightened on her elbow. 

Jerking her arm out of his grasp, Charlie rounded on him. “Raping, pillaging, and conscription boats are only the tip of the ice burg.” 

Stopping, Bass crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at her. “And I'm to assume you have personal knowledge of each of these acts.” 

Charlie’s cheeks burned at the implications. “My step-mother was a doctor. I had the misfortune of seeing her put more than one girl back together after a visit from your men and was at the birth at more than a few of their children.”

Bass studied her face. “These are serious accusations you’re making.”

“Yes, I suppose they are. The question is what do you plan on doing about it.”

Lowering his arms Bass smirked before taking her hand and wrapping it around his forearm as he led the way back to the Hall. “You seem to have an intelligent head on your shoulders, what would you suggest I do?”

Glancing at him, Charlie spoke her mind, “The men in charge are either corrupted or incapable, so the first thing would be to replace them. After that, you’d need to find out if the men were following orders or equally as corrupt, however, I don’t understand why you can't exchange taxes for warm bodies. There should surely be some kind of exchange rate possible, thereby giving your militia warm bodies and your citizens a break on their taxes, eliminating the need for conscription boats at all.”

“That’s an interesting proposal, Charlotte. If I’m not careful, you’ll be running the Republic one day.”

Dragging her feet to a stop, Charlie turned to look at him. “That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking,”

“You don’t ever plan on letting me leave, do you?”

“We made a deal, fair and square, Charlotte. Your life for your family’s. It certainly won’t hurt for you to understand the inner workings of the government, especially now that we have power. Imagine the things we’ll be able to accomplish together,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

Chin quivering, Charlie tilted her head away from his hand, her breaths coming in short jerky huffs. 

“You look pale, Charlotte. Why don’t you go lay down until dinner. We can’t have you getting ill.”

“Yes, I think I will,” she murmured, turning back towards the Hall, dragging her hand out of his own as she went.

* * *

She stayed in her room for the rest of the day, feigning sleep when he entered unannounced to check on her. 

“Oh, Charlotte,” he whispered as he hovered over her, drawing a soft worn afgan over her body. 

When she emerged the next morning it was to find him patiently waiting on her, taking care of his correspondence at his desk in the breakfast room. 

“Good Morning,” he called out, getting up from his chair and walking towards her. 

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be in your office?” 

“Probably, but a man should be able to take a few hours on the morning of his engagement,” he smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Have a seat,” he motioned towards the wingback chairs. “We have a guest.” 

Stepping out into the hall, he issued a few orders to the guard and leaving the door open, stepped back into the room. 

“How do you feel about a week from Saturday?” he asked, walking over to the buffet to pour them each a cup of coffee. 

“For what?”

“Our wedding of course.”

Charlie sat down abruptly. “A week?”

“My secretary assures me that’s plenty of time, and when you consider there really nothing for either of us to actually do…” he trailed off. 

Unable to formulate an answer, she took the cup he offered her and took a sip of the steaming liquid. “Milk and sugar, just like you like.”

It was a simple thing, but yet felt incredibly intimate at the same time. Just what else had he observed about her, she wondered with a frown before speaking. “Thank you."

A motion in the door caught his attention. “Ahh, Mr. Weston. Please come in,” Bass called, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. “Why don’t we gather by my desk,” he suggested, waving the man further into the room as he made his way to Charlie’s side, taking her by the elbow as she stood. 

“Mr Weston is the finest jeweler in the Republic. He’s been kind enough to bring a selection of rings. After all, you only get married once,” Bass told her, bringing her hand to his mouth. pressing his lips to the skin above her knuckles, drawing her forward. Charlie gasped at the assortment of rings that Mr Weston had displayed upon Bass’ desk. 

The people she knew didn’t have wedding rings unless they were simple gold or silver bands with no adornment. Diamonds were too valuable to waste on a ring when it could feed your family for a month or more. 

“I think something simple?” Bass suggested, turning back to look at her. 

“This is too much, Bass,” Charlie protested as she looked down at the rings. 

“Don’t be silly,” Bass chided her. “Why don’t I pick out my favorites and you can choose from those?” he suggested. 

“Alright,” she agreed, taking a step back. 

Bass narrowed the selection down to a dozen. They were able to cut it down by five more after measuring her finger, leaving only those that fit her. 

She tried on one after the other, giving Bass her hand each time to inspect them and how they looked on her hand. After an hour, they had it narrowed down to two. 

“Might I suggest, since it is somewhat of a wedding gift, that you make the final selection, Mr. President and surprise you're lovely bride to be on your wedding day?” 

“What a wonderful suggestion,” Bass remarked as Charlie excused herself to the table where the maids were just bringing in their breakfast. 

After seeing Mr. Weston out, Bass stopped beside Charlie's chair at the table.

“Thank you for indulging me,” he smiled, brushing a thumb against her cheek.

Charlie gave a weak smile in return.

* * *

“Knock, knock,” Jeremy said, standing in the doorway. 

“Captain Baker. Bass already left for his office,” Charlie stated, looking up from where she was reading. 

“I’m here to see you, actually,” Jeremy replied, closing the door behind him. Making his way to the buffet, he poured them each a drink. 

Charlie eyed him warily as he held out a glass to her, but took it anyway. 

“Look, I don’t not know you, Charlie, but hear me out, okay?”

Charlie nodded, waving her glass in his direction before taking a sip, hissing at the burn.

“Bass needs someone to keep him on the straight and narrow. Especially now, with this new found power. I know you hate him and you hate the thought of being with him, but right now, as far as Bass is concerned, you’re Miles wrapped up in a brand new candy coating, and Bass would do anything for Miles.  _ Anything _ . So maybe you whisper a name in his ear, or make a suggestion about dropping tax rates for militia volunteers as you walk through the garden. A plea for mercy as he lies sated beside you in bed, his cock still wet.”

Face turning red, Charlie tossed her drink back. “So your suggestion is to whore myself out for the good of the Republic.”

“As the First Lady you’ll have the ear of the President. There’s no end to the changes you could make.” Draining his own glass, Jeremy set it on the table. “Just think about it, alright?” 

Sitting back in her chair, Charlie nodded, looking down at the ring on her finger.

* * *

Making her way outside to the gardens, Charlie found a large old oak and disappeared into the surrounding foliage to sit at it’s base. She thinks about what Jeremy said and his implications about her Uncle and Bass, a tremor skittering through her body at the thought of the two of them wrapped up in her bed and the stability that he implies it gave her captor. 

Could she possibly ever hope to ever have enough influence over the man to hold sway?


	4. Chapter 4

Bass is frantic. No one has seen Charlie for hours. The city has been put on lock-down and every member of the militia is out searching. 

He and Jeremy are going over the city map in his office, when a soldier stumbles into his office. 

“I’ve found her, sir,” he announces. 

“Where? Where is she?” Bass demands, infuriated that she thought she could run away from him after giving her word. 

“She’s in the garden, sir. Underneath the Oak tree.” 

Looking back at Jeremy in disbelief, he charges out of his office. 

Making his way through the gardens, he veers off the path and discovers her right where he was told she would be. He watches from behind as she sniffles into her sleeve. 

“Charlotte?” he asks, circling around so that he’s able to see her tear stained face. 

“Bass? Is everything all right?” 

Lowering himself down, he searches her face. “You tell me. No one’s seen you in hours. We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Really?” she questions, looking around as if she’s just now aware of how late it’s gotten. “I’m sorry,” she says, brushing at the tears on her face. 

“Charlotte, what’s wrong?”

“I’m scared,” she whispered, scooting back as a cold mask fell across his face. 

“Of me?” he demands to know. 

“No...yes...I don’t know!” she cried. 

Masking his annoyance, Bass held out his hand, lifting them both to their feet when she took it. 

“I’m not Miles,” she declared tearfully as he pulled her close, gathering her in his arms. 

“What did I tell you about believing everything you hear?” he asked, smoothing her hair back. “These are normal pre-wedding jitters,” he assures her, guiding her back to the path. “How about a warm bath before dinner, hmm?”

* * *

The morning of the wedding dawned sunny with a light breeze, making the heat of the late summer day bearable. The garden is still in bloom and there are rows of white chairs filled with onlookers as they stand between columns swathed in gauzy, white fabric, much like Charlie herself. 

The gathered onlookers clap politely as the priest announces them man and wife and Bass pulls his bride close and kisses her. His lips are warm and soft as his hand cups her cheek and he presses his lips against hers. She’s surprised at how much she likes it, licking her bottom lip to chase his taste as he pulls away. He smiles in approval as they turn towards their audience and walk back down the aisle she had just come up, escorted by Captain Baker. 

They take their place near the refreshment tables as their guests form a line and pass through to congratulate them. Charlie’s head is spinning from the warmth of the day and thoughts of the evening to come as she finishes exchanging pleasantries with the very chatty wife of a Major and turns to discover Tom Neville standing in front of her. “Mrs. Monroe,” he drawls holding out his hand. 

Bass must sense something is wrong as he breaks off his conversation with Julia and brings his hand up to rest on Charlie’s lower back. “Sweetheart. Thank the Nevilles for coming,” he says with a tight smile. 

“Thank you for coming,” Charlie repeats robotically, shaking the man’s hand. She refrains from wiping her hand on her dress. “This is Tom’s lovely wife, Julia, and I believe you already know their son, Jason.”

Shaking Julia’s hand with a wan smile, Charlie waits until the last moment to lift her eyes to Jason. 

“Jason, it’s good to see you,” she says, holding out her hand. 

“Congratulations,” Jason utters, keeping hold of her hand, until his father discreetly coughs. 

Curling his hand around Charlie’s waist, Bass frowns at the younger man, laying a hand on Charlie’s arm to pull her hand back.

Tom nods his head tightly and draws his family away. 

“Remember what we talked about Charlie, you'll be the one punished, not Jason.”

“I didn't do anything wrong,” she protests, putting on a smile for the next couple as Bass squeezes her elbow, 

“Whatever happened between you in the past was over thirty minutes ago.”

“I gave you my word and I’ll keep it,” she hissed, twisting her arm out of his grasp as the line came to an end. 

“Of course you will,” he murmurs, looking down at her in admiration. If only Miles had been so committed, he thinks, putting on a smile. When she holds out her hand, he takes it and they make their way over to cut the cake.

* * *

It’s later, when he realizes he hasn’t seen her for a few minutes. Looking around, he’s just in time to see Jason Neville tugging her away from the party. Setting down his champagne glass, he follows. 

“Charlie,” he hears the younger man say, “I've seen Miles. I know where he’s at. I can take you to him!”

“Is everything all right here?” Bass asks, coming up behind Charlie to wrap an arm around her waist, placing a kiss upon her bare shoulder.

Charlie closes her eyes, as her face goes pale. “Please, Bass. He doesn’t understand,” she whispers.

“Then let's make sure there's no misunderstandings,” Bass replies, pressing his lips behind her ear, as he looks at Jason. “Tell him about our deal and what will happen if he doesn’t stay away.”

Charlie trembles, a blush slowly rising from her chest upwards as Bass continues to ply kisses against the back of her neck and slowly fists her skirt, raising it as the other hand begins to fondle a breast. 

“I gave Bass my word that I would willingly stay here with him.” 

“And the rest,” Bass growled as his hand stroked the smooth skin of her thighs, 

“You have to stay away from me.” She explained, swallowing thickly, watching his nose flare at Bass display of ownership. “If you don’t, I’ll be punished.”

Eyes going wide, Jason opened his mouth before quickly shutting it with a tight nod of his head. “I understand,” he replied. “Sir.”

Charlie’s bottom lip trembled as he walked away, 

“We should get back to our guests,” Bass said, ignoring his departure. Circling Charlie, he adjusted her skirts. “Good as new,” he pronounced, taking her hand and wrapping it around his arm, leading her back to the reception.

* * *

Charlie gasped when Bass swept her into his arms at the bottom of the stairs and carried her upstairs. 

“What are you doing?” She asked as her arm slipped around his neck. 

“In ancient cultures,  It was believed that evil spirits, in a last-ditch effort to curse a newly married couple, would hover at the threshold of their new home. The bride had to be lifted to ensure that the spirits couldn't enter her body through the soles of her feet. It’s been customary to carry the bride over the threshold ever since,” he explained.

The guard outside Bass’ suite, congratulated them and opened the door, allowing Bass to do just that, carrying her all the way back to his bedroom. 

Their bedroom now, she supposed, seeing her things placed neatly throughout the room. 

Setting her down gently, Bass gathered her hands in his own. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you earlier how beautiful you looked today. Truly a vision,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Looking around the room, he nodded in approval. 

There was champagne chilling, fresh flowers from the garden and bowls of strawberries and cold cream. Letting go of her hands, he backed away. “I’ll give you a few moments to freshen up.”

Charlie watched as he made his way back into the sitting room. Holding up her hand to inspect her ring, she took a deep breath and released it slowly. The damage was done. She had made a promise today and for better or worse, she always kept her promises. Playing the coy maiden would serve no purpose. It was just sex after all. 

She waited until she heard the tinkling of glass before reaching behind her and unzipping her dress, slipping it off, laying it over a chair to be taken care of later. Padding into the bathroom, she twisted her hair up and washed her face with soap and water, removing all traces of makeup that had been applied to her earlier. 

Letting her hair down, she picked up her hair brush before wandering back out to the bedroom. Stopping next to the table the tray had been placed upon, she palmed the knife. Turning, she looked down at the frothy concoction that lay on her side of the bed with contempt. 

“It won’t bite,” Bass commented from where he leaned against the door frame. 

“I’m just not sure what the purpose is,” she replied, making her way over to finger the negligee with distaste. “You weren’t expecting a virgin were you?”

“I didn’t know what to expect,” he replied, walking over to the champagne and pouring a glass. Making his way to her, he held it out for her to take. 

With a nod of thanks, Charlie took a healthy swallow watching as Bass reached out to push her hair behind her shoulder exposing her breasts. 

“I’m actually glad that you’re not.”

“Why’s that?” Charlie asked with a dip of her brows. “I thought that was every man’s dream?”

Bass chuckled as he ran a finger down the side of her breast watching the nipple pucker. “That stopped being my dream about thirty years ago. Virgins can be so tedious. I prefer inexperienced young women that don’t know what it’s like to be with a real man. They’re just... so... pliable.”

Charlie couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips. “You think a lot of yourself don’t you?”

“I rarely hear a complaint.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “I’ve no doubt,” she replied over her shoulder as she made her way towards the dresser where she laid her hairbrush.

It’s not a second before his hand wraps around her bicep and he’s turning her, pressing her up against the bulky piece of furniture. His hands gripped her hips, as he came closer and she’s overwhelmed with his scent. When she raises her hands to press him back, he brings his mouth to hers. His lips are comfortably warm as a hand snakes around her back until it’s tangling in her hair. His other hand remains on her hip, and with a moan he parts her lips with his tongue, sucking on her bottom lip, before letting it loose. 

As his lips trail down to her collarbone, Charlie reaches behind her, picking up the knife she had laid down with the brush. Bringing her arm around, she brings it up to press against his jugular. She doesn’t speak until he lifts his head with a growl, looking her in the eyes. 

“If you ever again humiliate me like you did today in front of Jason, your men will be answering to Mrs. Monroe. Understand?” she asks as a drop of blood trickles under his collar. 

Eyes flicking from his throat to his eyes, she watches as his deadly glare transforms into unabashed lust, his cock twitching against her hip.

“There she is,” he breathes, wrapping his arm around her waist tighter, pulling her closer. 

“There’s who?” Charlie asks in confusion, the thought that he really is as batshit crazy as Miles said he was crossing her mind. 

“The woman that I watched stand up to Strausser without batting an eye. The woman that’s stirred my blood in a way it hasn’t been in years.” Running a hand up her arm, he squeezed her wrist until the knife fell from her hand with a hiss of pain. 

Nose flaring, Bass swung them around, pushing her back onto the bed. 

Charlie gasped as she hit the bed, scrambling up to her elbows as he yanked his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of her panties, dragging them down her legs, before crawling his way bed to hover over her. Grasping her face in his hand, he kisses her. It’s not soft or gentle or anything else one would expect on a wedding night and that suits Charlie just fine and she lifts her hands to tangle in his curls. 

Releasing her face, Bass breaks the kiss and trails his lips down her neck and across her collarbone before sucking a pink tipped nipple into his mouth before scraping it with his teeth. Charlie’s breath hisses through her teeth as he soothes the sting with his tongue before doing the same to its mate. It’s not until she reaches out to cup his head holding him in place that he moves on, sliding down till he’s on his knees beside the bed. Pulling her to the edge of the bed, he throws her legs over his shoulders and proceeds to make her scream. 

Standing, he unbuckled his belt and unfastens his pants, pushing them down and then kicking them away as he fists his cock. Leaning over her, he places a hand near her head to support his body, watching as she drags oxygen into her lungs and sweat glistens on her skin. The bedding is already soaked underneath her hips as he pushes his cock inside her, a shudder running up his spine as her swollen passage flutters around his cock. It’s not until she pulls him down to her that he perches his knees beside her on the bed and begins to move. 

Charlie meets him thrust for thrust as she kisses him, searching out every essence of herself in his mouth.

* * *

Once Bass collapsed onto the bed beside her, Charlie rolled to her side, a heap of sweaty, boneless flesh. She couldn’t even muster the energy to open her eyes when he propped himself up on an elbow to look down at her. 

With a delighted grin, Bass ran a finger across her bare shoulder and down her arm. “Want a drink?”

Charlie simply grunted in reply. Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, Bass got out of bed and poured them each a glass of champagne. Setting them on the tray along with the strawberries, he carries it over to the bed, joining his bride once again. 

“Here,” he says, holding out a glass to her. 

Rolling back towards him, Charlie pushes herself up and takes the glass from him, taking a sip. “Strawberries?”

Picking one up, he dipped it into the cream that Cook had whipped and brought it to her lips. 

Charlie sighed, looking between him and the strawberry. Leaning forward, she wrapped her lips around it and his fingers and took a bite. Leaning back, she slowly chewed, taking another sip of her champagne as he popped the rest into his mouth and licked the sticky juices from his fingers. Washing it down with the rest of his champagne, Bass sat his glass back on the tray and moved the tray to his bedside table. Taking another strawberry from the bowl, he rolled it between his fingers, “Lay down,” he ordered before biting off the tip and scooting closer. 

With a purse of her lips, Charlie sat her glass aside and did as he asked.

Once she was laying down, Bass reached out, rubbing the strawberry over her lips and then across each nipple. 

“What are you doing?” Charlie asked with a breathy whisper, cursing the tremble she heard in her voice.

“Having desert of course,” he smiled, dragging the strawberry down her stomach before slipping his hand between her legs. 

“Bass!” she gasped as his fingers slide through her folds before coming away empty.

“Oops,” he moaned, leaning down to lick the juice smeared across her lips, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I know just how to get that out.” 

Charlie whimpered, fisting a hand in his hair as he made his way down her body. 


	5. Chapter 5

He wants her to understand that she’s his now and doesn’t give her a moment’s peace, making sure that he’s touching her in some form or fashion, going so far as to insist that they bathe together and then fucks her in the tub.

By the time Monday morning comes, she the one that’s initiating sex and he has her screaming his name before he leaves their bed. 

He tries to concentrate on the paperwork in his hands, but instead is daydreaming about having her tied up on her stomach and fucking into her from behind when she suddenly appears before him. 

“Charlotte. To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asks, getting up from his chair and circling his desk to reach her. 

Charlie feels her cunt clench when he leans in to press a kiss on the corner of her mouth and fights the urge to reach out to him. It doesn’t take much to imagine sliding her lips down his neck, tasting him as he presses her down with the weight of his body. Swallowing thickly, she meets his eyes and knows that he knows what he does to her and can feel her face begin to burn with embarrassment. 

“I was hoping for something to do.”

Bass licked his lips. “That can be arranged,” he breathed, pulling her closer. 

Charlie trembled as his fingers crept under her shirt, unhooking her bra in one swift move. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Really?” he asked as the hand on her back slid down the back of her pants. “Cause that’s not what your body’s telling me,” he hummed, sucking an earlobe into his mouth. 

“Bass,” Charlie whined as he began to unbutton her shirt. “What if someone walks in?” 

He pulled away looking affronted.”I’m the President. No one just walks in. Not if they want to live anyway.”

* * *

“Here,” Bass said, pushing a stack of papers to the edge of his desk as he watched his wife finish dressing.

“What’s that?” Charlie asked, looking up from slipping her shoes back on. 

“Supply lines.”

“Supply lines?” 

“Our supply Convoys keep getting hijacked. I want you to tell me why and how. Figure that out and we’ll talk about giving you more responsibility.”

Charlie pursed her lips, intelligent enough to read between the lines. In order to prove herself, she would have to sell out the rebels. 

Bass called out for his guard as Charlie picked up the stack of papers. “Show my wife to General Matheson’s office and assign a private to help her.”

“Yes, Mr. President,” the guard nodded, holding open the door for Charlie. 

Turning his attention back to his desk, Bass effectively dismissed her.

Cheeks red with shame that the guard should see him treat her like this after the noises that they had been making earlier, Charlie gathered her papers to her chest and turned to leave. 

“Oh, and Charlotte,” Bass called out just before she stepped over the threshold. 

Charlie stopped, looking back over her shoulder. 

“This was a very nice surprise. Thank you,” he said with a warm smile.

* * *

She recruits Jeremy in her search for runners and answers and even gets permission for Kip, in ankle chains and bracelets, to be brought up from the cells to assist as well. 

When she begins to see a pattern, Charlie sends out a few of those same runners to narrow down her search.

The day her theory is confirmed, she slams the folder on her desk shut and orders everyone out of her office. Making herself a drink, she stands in front of the windows, watching as the city goes by. 

Before she’s even finished her drink, Bass is striding into her office. Fixing a drink for himself, he joins her near the windows. 

“Why are you making me do this?”

Bass takes a sip of his drink, turning to perch his hip on the credenza beside him. “Just what is it you think that I’m making you do, Charlotte? You’ve had free will in everything you’ve done since the day you agreed to stay.”

Charlie’s mouth drops open in amazement. “You would see it like that,” she murmurs, with a shake of her head. Tossing her drink back, she crosses back to her desk, picking up the folder laying there and holding it out to him. “I’ve located the rebel cell responsible for disrupting your supply line.”

Taking the folder, Bass flips through it silently for a moment. While he might have known who was doing it, he’d never been able to get this much information and is impressed. “Father Nicholas?” he questions watching as Charlie lips purse.

“He’s a good man,” she said, lifting her chin even as her voice shook. “They were in that location less than a week ago.” 

Tossing the folder back to her desk, Bass circles the desk, grasping her arm to pull her close. Placing a hand on her lower back, he uses his other hand to brush hair away from her face, “You’re amazing,” he whispers, pressing his lips against hers.

“Promise you won’t hurt them?” She asks with a hitch when he breaks the kiss, moving his lips to the corner of her eye as she wraps one arm over his shoulder and the other begins to undo the buttons on his uniform. 

Bass hummed as he nuzzled her ear. “We’re going to kill them with kindness,” he assures her with a smile.

* * *

“What’s that noise?” Nicholas asked, ducking outside the old toy store that they had turned into an infirmary, Nora following after. 

Shit!” Nora exclaimed. “Miles! We’ve got incoming!” she yelled, urging people to hide. It was only a matter of moments before the helicopter was in sight and coming straight for them. But instead of firing on them, it simply hovered for a moment before something was tossed out and the helicopter left the way it had come. 

Emerging from their hiding places the rebels cautiously made their way towards the crate that had been thrown from the helicopter and was now lying in pieces in the parking lot, an arrow sticking out what used to be the top of it. 

Pulling out the arrow that looked a lot like the ones Charlie used, Miles reads the letter attached as the others excitedly gathered up the supplies scattered upon the ground. 

“What does it say?” Nicholas asked

_ “Miles, _

_ Per my wife’s wishes, tomorrow at Noon, two wagons loaded with enough supplies to get your merry band of Rebels through the month will be on Danforth road at noon.  _

_ The only condition is this...There will be no more attacks on my supply convoys. For every month they go unmolested, it earns you one more supply wagon. _

_ Charlotte sends her love. _

_ Bass.” _

“His wife?” Nora breathes, her normally caramel-colored skin turning white as she looked over her shoulder at Rachel and Danny who’ve just emerged from the building. 

Nicholas ignored her as he crossed his arms over his chest. “So, for every month we don’t attack a supply convoy we get our own supplies. Son of a bitch,” the priest spit out. 

“Miles!,” Rachel called out, making her way over to them “Do you think Charlie had something to do with this?”

“Possibly,” Miles replied, clenching his jaw as she turned to speak to Danny who was chattering excitedly. 

“What are we going to do?” Nora asked, looking up at him.

“Looks like we’re retiring,” he huffed, looking over at Nicholas. “Combine this with the tax break announcements that were just made? Who wants to fight anymore?”

* * *

Since their marriage, Bass’ weekly officer’s dinners, have transformed from stag night into dinner parties for the officers and their wives. If the single officers disappear after desert to Captain Bakers house, no one bothers to mention it.

And while Charlie doesn’t quite fit in, her uncle is a traitor after all, she finds she enjoys socializing. It reminds her of the community dinners her village had during the winters, combining their resources just to survive. 

The latest reports from her village are good. They’re good from all across the Republic actually. With the lower taxes, people are expecting the best winter they’ve had in years.

As she and Bass enter the salon, they’re instantly greeted, and after a distracted kiss to her cheek, Bass breaks off to his men almost immediately as Charlie allows Mrs, Faber to draw her towards a group of younger wives. It’s as she chats that she first gets a glimpse of Jason.

His face is full of longing and want and that is not a road Charlie can afford to travel. Breaking eye contact, she immediately sought out Bass who was watching her. She doesn’t break his gaze until a maid appears by her side, whispering into her ear.

Giving the woman a brief nod, she crossed the room to his side, placing her hand softly against his back. “Dinners ready,” she announced to the group of men, meeting her husband's eyes. Bass smiled, turning towards her and there’s no mention of Jason as they led their guests to the formal dining room. “We’ll discuss this later,” he murmured before pressing his lips against her wedding ring. Charlie simply tilts her head as he helps with her chair, the rest of his officers following his lead. 

Charlie buries her anxiety over Jason’s presence, and exactly what Bass will have to say later, and dinner goes off without a hitch. As the men drift out to the patio for cigars and whiskey, the women headed back to the salon for wine and that’s when it happens. 

Jason corners her in the hallway between the rooms. 

Charlie shuffles her feet uncomfortably as he clasps onto her arm and refuses to let go. There’s no way she can get out of this without making a scene, so make a scene she shall.

Pulling her hand back, Charlie slapped him across the face. She winces, shaking her hand and Jason is so shocked he let go of her arm and covered his cheek. 

“How dare you! I’m a married woman!” Charlie exclaimed loudly as several women in the salon turn in their direction and she hears a set of heels hurrying away. It’s only moments before Julia appears next to her.

Charlie steps back with a gasp of outrage, bringing a hand to her mouth, before dropping it to her chest. “Julia, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask your family to leave. Your son has had too much to drink and has forgotten his manners.” 

She’s just finished speaking when Tom and Bass appear, an audience having gathered at this point.

“Is everything alright?” Tom asked as a fuming Julia grabbed hold of her son, pulling him to her.

“Jason’s forgotten his manners. We should probably take him home,” the woman ground out through her patented fake smile.

“Of course,” Tom agreed with a frown, not sure what was going on, but the handprint on his son’s face speaks volumes. “My deepest apologies Mrs. Monroe. Mr. President,” Tom said with a nod. “I’ll be sure to remind the boy of his manners. 

“See that you do, Tom,” Bass replied, holding out his hand to shake. 

Tom shook Bass’ hand as Julia herded her son towards the door. 

“Tom,” Charlie said, holding out her hand.

Raising a brow, Tom looks down his nose at her before taking her hand. When he does, Charlie takes a step forward, pitching her voice so that he’s the only one that can hear her. “Get your house in order Tom, before I have to.”

“Mrs. Monroe,” Tom replies, his back going stiff.

“Bass, we should get back to our guests.”

“Of course, darling. Tom,” Bass nods in dismissal, taking his wife’s arm as he helps her back into the salon and sees her settled before joining his officers to finish his drink.

Charlie acts appropriately scandalized at Jason’s “drunken” behavior as the other wives gather rank around her and she smiles knowing that the Nevilles won’t be accepted anywhere until _ she  _ decides to forgive them. When she catches Bass staring at her thoughtfully, she lifts her glass in a silent toast.

Twisting the pearls at her neck, she eventually feigns a headache from all the excitement and pressing a kiss to the corner of Bass’ mouth, escapes upstairs. 

She’s hanging up her clothing when he joins her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Are you sure you’re alright? Jason didn’t hurt you?”

“No, Bass. I’m fine,” she assures him with a smile, “I just wasn't expecting to be accosted in my own home. Why was Jason here anyway?”

“He just returned from the Peninsula and his parents asked if he could accompany them.”

“Oh,” Charlie replied, taking a seat at her vanity to brush her hair. 

“Charlie, I have to know. Just what did you say to Tom before he left?” Bass asks as he hangs up his jacket. 

“Hmmm? Oh, just a friendly suggestion to get his house in order before I’m forced to,” she replied with a smile at her reflection. 

Brows rising in surprise, Bass stares at his wife before turning back to his wardrobe.

* * *

It’s rare that they leave the hall together, but the day Charlie finishes a standardized tax reduction per volunteer so that the conscription facilities can be decommissioned, she and Jeremy convince Bass to go out and enjoy the evening. 

The square around the Hall is bustling as they step outside and Charlie smiles up at her husband, wrapping an arm through his. The power is turned on here from seven to ten every evening and everyone comes out to enjoy the novelty of the first lit Christmas tree in fifteen years, turning the area into a true winter wonderland.

“I love you,” Charlie whispers with a soft smile as she stretches up to press a kiss to Bass’ cheek.. 

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words to him and they render him speechless. Grasping her by the arms, he turns to face her, Jeremy and his guards coming to a stop a discreet distance away. 

“Do you mean that?” he asked, searching her face intently. 

“Yes,” she replied, looking into his eyes, watching as his face lit up with joy.

Pulling her to him, Bass wrapped his arms around her, bending down to kiss her. Charlie sighed against his mouth, parting her lips in invitation. They don't break apart until someone coughs discreetly. Parting, they’re startled by sudden applause. Looking up, Charlie realizes that they’ve gathered the attention of the nearby crowd. Cheeks turning red, she turns her face into Bass’ shoulder in embarrassment as he laughs and waves to the crowd. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, they venture further about, stopping at a cart selling apple cider and roasted chestnuts. 

They wander the square, shopping the stalls that people have set up and engaging with anyone who wants a moment of their time, simply enjoying being with each other and away from their responsibilities. Bass hasn’t stopped smiling, stopping Charlie every now and again to steal a kiss. 

Jeremy wants them inside well before the lights go out so when the lights flicker for the first time, they head inside, hand in hand, never seeing the man watching them from across the way.

* * *

It’s a few days before Christmas when Kip comes strolling into her office just like any other day. Today however, he presents her with a gift. 

“What’s this?” Charlie asks, taking the gift with a smile. 

“Just small token of my appreciation.”

“Well, I was going to wait until tomorrow, but under the circumstances,” she said, pulling open her bottom drawer. Pulling out a cloth bag, she handed it over.

Pulling the bottle out of the bag, Kip whistles. “Mrs. Monroe. How very naughty of you,” he said, holding up the bottle of Glenlivet. 

Charlie shrugged. “Being married to the President has its perks.” 

Picking up her gift, she unwrapped it to discover a copy of “The Wizard of Oz.”

“Kip…” 

“When I first met you, I remember you and Nora talking about how important it was to someone named Maggie. I thought you might like a copy.”

Charlie leans back against her desk, running her hands over the cover. She and Nora never had any such conversation and they both know it. “Thank you, Kip. I’ll treasure it always.”

“Merry Christmas, Charlie.”   
  


“Merry Christmas, Kip. To you- and your friends."

Once he’s gone, she picks up the book and carries it upstairs with her. She’s been here for months now, so she doubts it’s an emergency, but either way, there will be a decision to be made and she's not ready to do that yet.


	6. Chapter 6

It was New Years eve and Charlie made her way downstairs to hurry her husband along. She refused to miss the fireworks they would set off at midnight and was prepared to go by herself if necessary. 

He’s having a drink when she slips into his office and he grimaced at the sight of her. “The fireworks,” he says, rubbing at his eyes. 

Charlie sighs, giving him a small smile, trying not to look devastated at the fact that he forgot. 

“It’s alright. I can go by myself,” she assures him as she makes her way over to his desk, standing behind his chair to wrap her arms around his neck. “What’s got you so distracted?” she asks, reaching out with one hand to turn the map on his desk. 

“There’s something I’m missing,” he says, exhaustion seeping into his voice as he rubs his eyes with one hand and knocks the map away with the other. “This all looks familiar, but I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Charlie assures him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “If you change your mind, I’ll be out in the park,” she tells him. 

“Yeah, okay,” he replies distractedly as she pulls away from him, letting herself out of the office quietly.

* * *

Charlie wanders out to the park by herself, chatting with the vendors that have ventured out in the frigid temperatures to enjoy the festivities. 

She’s just paying a lady for a knitted cowl when she looks up and sees a ghost almost dropping the diamond in her hand. Turning her attention back to the vendor, Charlie smiles, thanking the woman and then wanders on down the path until she disappears into a small group of Evergreens. “What are you doing here?” she demands.

“Charlie. It’s good to see you. Miles is worried about you,” Nora replies in an attempt to placate the younger woman.

“I’ve been here for six months and he’s just now worried about me?” Charlie scoffs.

“He's fighting with the Georgians. Leading their offensive. Foster’s given him carte blanche.”

Charlie shakes her head, pulling on her bottom lip with her teeth. Of course he is. It all makes sense now. “Okay? And?” she asks, turning her attention back to her friend.

“Join us,” Nora begs, reaching out to grab Charlie’s hand “Leave with me. Now.”

Taking a step back, Charlie snatches her hand away, looking up towards the shadow of the hall and back to Nora. “I can’t Nora. I’m married.”

“To Bass?” Nora scoffs. “He doesn’t love you, Charlie. You know that, right? It’s all just a show. A way for him to get back at Miles. You’re nothing but a puppet to be maneuvered and eventually thrown away.”

Charlie’s face twists at the words coming out of Nora's mouth, but before she can reply, they both hear shouting and the marching of boots, Bass’ voice heard above all of it.

“You should go,” Charlie says, looking towards the older woman. “Give Danny and Miles my love.”

Pursing her lips, Nora looks at Charlie in frustration, but finally runs away as the sounds of boots get closer.

Charlie calmly heads back the way she came and is nearly plowed over by a guard who takes her firmly by the arm. Charlie looks at the man in annoyance as he calls out over the crowd. “Found her, General.”

“Thank you,” Charlie bites out, yanking her arm away from the man as Bass hurries to her side.

“Where were you?” he asks, his breath hot against her cheek as he grasps her wrist painfully. 

“There was a child. She was lost,” Charlie replies, moving closer, running her nose along the edge of his jaw.

“A child?” he murmurs in question. 

“A little girl. Golden curls and cornflower blue eyes,” she whispers in response, raising her eyes to his. “She’s what I imagine...well, she’s with her parent’s now,” she finishes. 

Pressing a kiss to her temple now that his heart is no longer racing at the thought of betrayal, Bass places a hand on her lower back and guides her back onto the pathway.

They’re mingling with the masses, huddled against the cold, when a little girl with blonde curls and a worn, navy coat being carried on her father's shoulders, sees Charlie and waves shyly. Charlie smiles and waves back, getting the attention of the child's mother who smiles with a nod and continues on with her family. 

Bass looks between them and his wife, kicking himself for doubting her. Pulling her back against his chest, he wraps an arm around her waist. Charlie leans back against him with a sigh, wondering how her life became such a hot mess as Bass rubs a gloved hand up and down her arm. She loves her brother and uncle, her mind shying away from thoughts of her mother, but Bass is her husband and she made a promise to him. One that she doesn’t want to break. 

Her thoughts are interrupted by the clock tower beginning to ring and people counting. Turning her in his arms, Bass gently cups her jaw. “Happy New Year, Charlotte.”

Charlie smiles up at him softly. “Happy New Year, Bass,” she replies as his mouth meets hers. Breaking apart with a smile, Charlie laughs as the first firework explodes over their heads, wrapping her arms around him in delight as she watches. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he holds her free hand against his chest as he turns his eyes to the sky as well.

* * *

That night, in their bed, something is different Charlie thinks in the back of her mind while still giving her husband her complete attention. Bass is a demanding, yet giving lover, always making sure she falls apart in his arms before giving in to his own desires, but this is different. It’s almost as though he’s worshiping her body. He takes his time, his fingers dancing over her skin, mouth and tongue skimming over every exposed inch of her skin as though he wants to memorize her taste. 

Pulling her into his lap, he lifts her up, letting her slowly slide down his cock, savoring every inch that her cunt takes in, until he’s settled balls deep inside her, one hand grasping her ass as the other wraps around her neck, pulling her forehead to his. Looking into her eyes, Bass begins to move inside her, never taking his eyes away from hers as her cunt clutches at his cock in desperation every time it slides out just to the head, before plunging back inside her once more, easing it fears. It’s the most intimate thing Charlie has ever experienced, something almost holy passing between the two of them as he makes love to her. Makes love to her, Charlie thinks with a gasp, twin tears sliding down her cheeks. This is the first time he’s ever made love to her and the realization hits her like an iron anvil as she takes him deeper than she thought possible, whispering his name in quiet reverence. She’s never believed in God, but right here, right now, she believes in Bass. 

Pulling her closer, he grinds up into her until he’s at the entrance of her womb and holds her still. “You’re mine and you’ll always be mine,” he breathes against her mouth, licking at her lips, never taking his eyes from her own. “I love you, Charlotte.”

Letting her emotions out with a sob, Charlie grabs a handful of hair at the base of his neck and slams her mouth against his, his words setting off her orgasm, leaving her spasming around his cock. Bass simply kisses her back, one hand on the back of her head, holding her to him and the other on her hip, not letting an inch of space between them as his hips jerk beneath her. 

Once their breath calms and Charlie’s head is lolling on his shoulder in the boneless exhaustion that only comes from being thoroughly fucked, Bass picks her up, his cock falling limp from her body and lays her head on her pillow. Crawling up beside her, he kisses her once more, possessive before making his way down her body, settling between her legs, which he pushes apart, eyeing her like a starving man at a feast. He waits until she meets his eyes and then lowers himself to the bed, burying his face in the flesh between her legs with determination. Her fingers wind themselves in his hair when she screams. 

It’s when he flips her over to her stomach, pulling her ass up into the air so that it’s even with his crotch, that she sees the book lying on the nightstand. She stares at it as he pounds into her, mindless to the bruises he’s leaving as he claims her again. 

Turning her head, she reaches back for him. Leaning forward, Bass wraps a hand around her neck and sloppily kisses her. “Fuck me,” she begs low in her throat. “Fuck me so I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Bass’ eyes go dark as he watches her palming her own breast, and grabbing her arms, pulls her up, back bowed as he slips an arm around her shoulders, the other hand wrapping around her neck as his hips slam against hers. 

* * *

When Bass wakes the next morning, he idly drags a finger down his wife’s spine, leaning over to press a kiss at the tip of her tailbone, a hand smoothing over the round curve of her ass, thinking of all the ways he’d taken her last night. They’d both be hard pressed to walk straight today he wagered, so he decides to spend the first day of the new year in bed with his wife. Getting out of bed, he finds his robe lying nearby and tugs it on. He seeks out the guard at the door and requests breakfast and enough hot water for a bath, passing along a note informing the staff he would be spending the day in his rooms. 

He carries the paper the guard gives him and settles back into bed where Charlie still sleeps the sleep of the dead. 

Charlie wakes slowly and lays quietly as he plays with the ends of her hair while reading the paper, thinking about the previous evening and why he might still be in bed with her. When a knock sounds at the outer door Bass folds the paper, setting it aside and slides down the bed till he’s face to face with her. 

“Sleep well?” he asks, pushing her hair back away from her face. 

“Not really. Some asshole kept me up all night screaming,” she answers with a smirk, watching the corner of his eyes crinkle as he laughs out loud, taking her breath away. Reaching out, he palms her cheek, eyes taking her in, before leaning down to kiss her languidly. 

“Breakfast has arrived,” he tells her, his hand skimming over her shoulder and around to her breast to tweak her nipple, receiving a hiss of discomfort in return. “I have hot water being prepared for a bath. We’ll soak for as long as you want,” he promises, placing a chaste kiss against the sensitive skin.

“That sounds nice,” Charlie hums, letting him pull her from their bed and slip her robe over her arms, tying it snugly at her waist. He presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, before pressing a hand gently on her lower back, guiding her out to the other room to eat their breakfast.

They spend a ridiculous amount of time in their bathtub, filled with salts and oils, just relaxing and talking as Bass plays with a loose curl that’s escaped from the pile on top of her head.

She was sleepy when Bass lifted her out of the tub and quickly dried her off before doing the same to himself and guiding her to the bed, holding up the sheets for her before crawling in beside her. 

“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling her back against his chest, pressing kisses up and down her throat and shoulder, as his hand delves between her legs. 

“Bass, no,” Charlie whines, pushing his hands away. 

“Do you trust me not to hurt you?” he asks, his breath hot against her throat. 

“Yes,” she breathes, stilling in his arms. 

Using his knee, he leveraged her legs apart, draping one over his own as he lifted up on one elbow and reached behind him for a moment before moving his hand back between her legs. 

Charlie sucked in a breath at the cooling sensation between her legs. “What is that?” she asks, unable to stop her hips from moving against his hand.

“Aloe Vera and mint,” Bass replies as he smooths the concoction over her labia before inserting his fingers into her vagina. 

“That feels good,” she sighed. “It feels different than what you used last night.”

Bass hummed. “Last night was oil with orange and ginger and was for a very.specific.purpose,” he explains, punctuating his words with kisses on her neck. 

Charlie blushed as she thought about that very specific purpose, moaning when he drug his fingers backwards, smearing the aloe backwards towards her tight little rosebud, inserting a finger under the guise of soothing her. 

“Bass,” Charlie moaned, arching her back, pressing her head against his shoulder. 

“Mmm, baby,” Bass whispers huskily into her ear before sucking on the lobe. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he murmured, slowly thrusting his finger in and out of her ass a few times as his other hand works her cunt. It doesn’t take long before her body begins to spasm and tugs at his finger. 

This time when she falls on the bed in a boneless heap, she remains still, not moving as he cleans them up before crawling back into bed with her. 

“I hate you,” she murmurs against his neck as he settles her body against his own. 

She feels his lips curve against her temple. “Sleep,” he whispers, pulling the covers up over them and Charlie does just that. 


	7. Chapter 7

“Jeremy,” Charlie asked the next day as she sat at her desk and he poured himself a drink, “does the way the Georgians are fighting remind you of anyone?”

“Well,” he mused, taking a sip of his drink, “Evansville kind of reminded me of a stunt Bass pulled years ago in Michigan and then that move in Carbondale was a lot like Miles…Jesus Christ,” Jeremy groaned. “Miles is fighting for the Georgians. How did you know?” he asked, spinning on his heel to face her. “No! no, I don’t want to know,” he blurted out, throwing back his drink before hurrying towards the door. Stopping suddenly, he turned back to face her. “There isn’t anything else is there?” he asked as a line appeared between his eyes.

“No, not that I’m currently aware of.” 

Looking at her as though she had grown two heads Jeremy backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. She could hear his polished black boots thumping down the hall. 

Getting up from her desk, Charlie ventured over to the Republic map hanging on her wall, thoughts tumbling about her head.

* * *

It took her a week to find a rebel base, another two to identify it's members and narrow it down to just one man. A single father with a sick kid struggling to make ends meet. It didn't take too much convincing, a crate of food, a few diamonds, promises of more for his help. 

On Wednesdays, Charlie volunteered at the hospital and that's where they would meet. Five ounces of diamonds for viable information on Miles and the Georgian-Rebel alliance. 

Afterwards, she would hole up in her office with Kip, whom Bass still hadn’t forgiven, with a replica of Bass’ war map going over different scenarios, literally passing Jeremy notes on where and when to engage the enemy.

He balked at first.

Until they started winning. 

He visited her in her office several times, crowing in hushed tones that not even Miles in the initial battles of the Republic had done this well. Even with the inside knowledge of where the attacks would be coming from, she just seemed to have a knack to know the best way to turn the situation to their advantage. Just when to strike and where to cause the most damage. 

Charlie didn't mind that Jeremy was getting all the credit. All that mattered was that they stopped the war and kept control of the power. The entirety of Pennsylvania and Ohio had power at the moment. The state's were cleaning up and determining what infrastructure could be salvaged and what would be lost to history. What was, couldn’t always be again.

Heady with excitement, Charlie estimated that in three short weeks they would be storming Atlanta. The world that she grew up in was changing for the better because of her. She, Charlie Matheson-Monroe, would make sure that her parents wrongs were righted.

* * *

Wednesday morning came and Charlie gathered her things for the day as normal before informing her maid where she could be found and left the hall after having breakfast.

Riding in the carriage to the hospital, Charlie let the guards help her down, instructing them to pick her up at lunch, before making her way inside. Greeting a few people that she knew, she continued briskly down the hallway, taking the stairs down one flight into the basement and exited through a door into the alley behind the building. There, she found her informant waiting. 

Heads bent together, they talked quietly and should anyone have been eavesdropping, they wouldn’t have heard any information that passed between them. It wasn’t until they separated, and their hands met to exchange payment, that one of her guards came out of the door behind her and the others appeared at the end of the alleyway.

“Explain yourself,” Charlie demanded of the guard behind her who was currently pointing a gun in her direction.

“The Republic doesn’t take kindly to spies, you rebel bitch,” he sneered, grasping at her arm as he pulled her closer. “Me, though? I don’t mind much what flavor your cunt is. I’ll be nearby, waiting for the President to be done with you, so that I can have a go at you.”

“We’ll see about that,” Charlie replied as he pushed her roughly, causing her to fall to the ground, half her hair falling from the neat chignon her maid had styled this morning. Charlie ignored the gash at her knee and the stains on her skirt as the guard drug her up to her feet, binding her wrists and gagging her. Then, along with her informant threw them in the back of a wagon, parading them slowly through town on their way back to the hall.

“Jesus Christ!” Jeremy exclaimed as the door to Bass’ office was thrown open and Charlie was tossed to the floor next to his feet, a bound and gagged man drug in behind her.

“What the hell is going on here?” Bass yelled at the guard in charge, as Jeremy helped Charlie to her feet, tugging the gag out of her mouth before whipping out a switchblade to cut the ropes at her wrists.

“She’s rebel scum, Mr. President! We caught the cunt trading secrets with this rebel spy behind the hospital. She’s easily met with him half a dozen times!”

Bass whipped around to look at his wife, eyes running from her head to her toe, taking in her askew hair and soiled dress before seeing the blood that had dried down the length of her leg.

“Who treated her like this?” Bass demanded as he waved a hand at her.

“The prisoner was being uncooperative and might have taken a tumble or two as we got her into the wagon,” the guard explained with a sneer in her direction.

“Tell him the rest of it,” Charlie hissed, taking a step towards the man only to have Jeremy hold her back. “Tell the President how you plan on fucking his wife!” she accused, struggling against Jeremy’s hold on her. 

“Oh.Fuck,” Jeremy muttered with a roll of his eyes.

A huff of laughter escaped Bass’ mouth as he grinned at Charlie. Running a finger across his lips, he turned back to the guard. “You want to fuck my wife?” Bass asked, circling the guard, coming to a stop behind him. He raised his brow with a smirk as he looked back at Charlie where she stood next to Jeremy. “She does have nice tits, doesn’t she?” he asked. “They fit just perfectly in your hand, and her pussy,” he hummed. “I could go on and on about her pussy,” he sighed. The guard shuffled uncomfortably where he stood in front of Bass. “You want a taste?” Bass asked lowly near the man’s ear before moving towards his wife. 

Taking Charlie by the arm, Bass guided her so that she was standing in front of him, wrapping an arm around her waist possessively. “Get on your knees,” Bass demanded of the man who quickly complied, watching as Bass nuzzled his wife behind her ear, not noticing as the President slowly pulled his gun. “This is the closest you’ll ever get,” Bass growled, lifting the gun towards the guard. “She may be a traitor,” he continued, tightening his arm around her waist so tight she couldn’t breathe, “but she’s my wife and no one touches her but me.” Meeting the man’s eyes, Bass pulled the trigger.

The smell of sulfur and blood was immediately overwhelming, causing Charlie to sway slightly, before regaining her balance. Dragging the warm barrel of the gun down Charlie’s cheek before releasing her, Bass swung the chair from in front of his desk around so that it was directly behind her. Looking over her shoulder at him, Charlie silently sunk down into the seat.

Slowly prowling his way over to the bound and gagged man that had been brought in behind Charlie, Bass removed his gag.

The man stayed quiet, looking warily between Charlie and Bass.

“Before today, have you ever seen this woman before?” Bass asked with a wave in his wife's direction.

“Yes,” the man replied warily.

“How many times?”

The man opened and closed his mouth with a shake of his head. “Many,” he finally replied. 

“Starting when?” Bass asked as he paced slowly.

The man blew out a nervous breath. “January.”

Charlie looked up at Jeremy briefly before turning her eyes back to her husband.

“Exactly how many diamonds have you given my wife in exchange for information?” Bass hissed hotly as he locked eyes with his wife.

The man tilted his head in confusion “I’ve never given her any diamonds. She pays me.”

“Oh, for god's sake, just tell him already,” Jeremy spit out. 

A mutinous look covered Charlie’s face as she tilted her chin to look at her husband. “I wasn’t selling Republic secrets. I was buying Rebel ones.”

Bass stilled. “Everyone out,” he demanded, pointing a finger in Jeremy’s direction, “except you.”

“Is this true,” Bass asked the kneeling man once his soldiers had left the room.

“Yes. I gave her the locations of where the rebels and Georgians were gathering and preparing to attack, and she paid me in diamonds,” the man admitted. 

Charlie jerked when his body hit the floor.

Bass pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. “Just what exactly have the two of you been doing behind my back?” he bellowed.

Charlie picked her ruined shoes up off the floor beside her and threw them one at a time at her husband, watching as he deflected them with his arm. “I've been winning your goddamn war for you is what I’ve been doing!” she screamed in response, her chest heaving.

Stomping across the room till he was leaning down in front of her, Bass roared in her face, "I don't need your help winning this war. I was winning wars while you were still in diapers!"

"Not by yourself you weren’t!" Charlie replied snidely. "You couldn't win anything without a Matheson propping you up."

Without thought, Bass backhanded her, Jeremy shouting his name in outrage. 

Bringing one hand to her cheek, attempting to cool the throb, Charlie pulled a small dagger from Jeremy's boot before standing from her chair and slowly stalking towards Bass until his back hit the wall behind him.

“I'm not the only Matheson playing house these days,” Charlie said coolly, bringing the dagger in her hand up to play with his collar. “Miles is on Team Foster now, in case you haven’t heard, and has been for months.  _ That's _ why you couldn't beat them. You've never been able to beat Miles. At least not until I started helping. I’m better at military strategy than Miles ever thought about being,” she breathed near his ear as the dagger left a thin red line across his throat. “You wanna win this war? Then get the fuck out of my way,” she growled before turning to look over her shoulder at Jeremy.   
  


“Get out.”

Walking towards the door, Jeremy stopped next to them, holding out his hand. Reaching down, Charlie pulled Bass’ Eagle out of his holster and handed it to Jeremy, along with his own dagger. 

With a nod, he silently let himself out the door. 

Once he was gone, Charlie tightened her hold on Bass’ lapels and spun them around so it was her against the wall. 

“Say your sorry,” she demanded, dragging her finger along the bloody line on his neck. 

“I am,” he breathed, “Charlie, I'm so sorry,” he murmured, cupping the cheek he had struck, leaning forward to rub his nose against hers. Hands slipping up to rest on his shoulders, Charlie pushed down on them. 

“Show me,” she replied, watching as he dropped down in front of her, his hands skidding her skirt up her hips and pulling her panties down. Stepping out of them, Charlie closed her eyes, head falling back against the door with a shudder.

* * *

Slipping her panties into his pocket, Bass pulled Charlie’s skirt down and stood. “You taste different,” he hummed against her lips, kissing her just long enough for her to taste herself before turning back towards his desk, missing her look of surprise. 

"The wives tell me that's a common complaint," Charlie replied distractedly, pushing herself away from the wall and opening the door beside her. "It means the morning sickness will be starting soon," she explained, standing in front of the open door just long enough for him to slowly turn back to her. 

Meeting his eyes, Charlie turned on her heel and fled the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Making his way up to their suite, Bass was surprised to meet Doctor Lansing emerging from their bedroom.

“Doctor, is everything alright?”

“Congratulations are in order,” the doctor smiled, reaching out to shake Bass’ hand. “Mrs Monroe told me the two of you suspected a pregnancy while I was stitching up that gash on her leg and after a thorough examination, I’m pleased to say you’ll definitely be a father come the new year.”

Bass couldn’t help the boyish grin that lit up his face. “So everything's alright with her and the baby?

“Perfectly. I’ll stop by tomorrow and we can discuss diet and the like,” he said, making his way to the door. “Congratulations again.”

Bass waited until the door shut softly behind the doctor before entering his bedroom. He found Charlie standing in front of the windows, looking out into the gardens below. 

Approaching her, he grasped her shoulders lightly, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. “I love you” he whispered, as her hand came up to cover one of his. Turning her in his arms, he met her eyes. Never looking away, he untied the belt on her robe and lightly pushed it apart, running his palm down to her waist. 

Much like he had earlier, he dropped to his knees in front of her, never taking his eyes from hers. Once he was even with her belly, he grasped her hips, pulling them towards him. 

Finally, lowering his eyes, he looked at her stomach, where their child now rested and lightly stroked the skin there. He had begun to have doubts about his fertility or hers when she hadn’t got pregnant right away. Not that he hadn’t unexpectedly enjoyed having the time with her to himself, but he wanted an heir. An heir with both Matheson and Monroe blood. 

Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth against the natural protrusion of her abdomen before burying his face against her as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He felt her hands come up to tangle in his hair. 

“Are you happy?” she asked softly.

Bass chuckled wetly as he tilted his head back to look at her. “Happy, terrified, thankful,” he replied with a shake of his head. “After Shelly and the baby,” he trailed off, pressing another kiss against her belly, before pulling her down so that she was straddling his lap. “You and this baby will want for nothing, Charlie. I promise.”

Charlie stroked his cheek with a smile. “I love you, too.” 

Pulling her close, Bass buried his face in her neck as he slowly rocked them back and forth.

* * *

Th e following Wednesday Bass met her by the door with a frown. “I’m not so sure about this.”

Charlie smirked, reaching out to straighten his collar with a sigh. “You killed my informant, remember? I’m just the First Lady off to do her civic duty.”

Grasping her waist, he pulled her forward. “Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”

Eyes widening in surprise, Charlie reached out to cup his cheek, her eyes sparkling. “And don’t you forget it,” she replied, just before their lips met.

“See you at lunch,” he whispered, when she pulled away.

Charlie patted his chest and headed for the doors.

* * *

Charlie was surprised when after just a few hours, guards were hurrying her out of the hospital. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked.

“The President wants you home,” the older of the two men said in a hushed voice as they nearly carried her down the stairs.

“There’s a man at the hall. He arrived in a car,” the other guard replied breathlessly as the door to the covered carriage opened to reveal her mother holding a sawed off shotgun. The guards looked dumbfounded as to what to do.

“Fuck” Charlie sighed as she reached up to rub the bridge of her nose.

“Charlie. Get in,” her mother demanded.

“And If I don’t?” Charlie asked.

“Then I’ll kill them,” Miles growled from behind her.

Charlie spun around to look at her Uncle. “Now, Charlie!” he hissed as they started to gain an audience.

Charlie frowned at her Uncle with a “hmpft.” 

Climbing into the carriage, she watched as Miles shoved a piece of paper against the older guards chest just before her mother slammed the carriage door shut. Sitting back against the seat, it was only a moment before the carriage swayed under Miles’ weight and they were off.

“Really?” Charlie asked her mother. “You’re kidnapping me?”

“After you ignored Nora, you didn’t leave us a choice,” Rachel replied tightly, keeping the gun aimed at her daughter, occasionally checking to see if they were being followed.

Charlie watched her mother with a cold eye, hoping that the paper Miles had shoved at the guard was for Bass, letting him know that they had taken her. 

While Bass may have “forgiven” her stint as de facto General, her eyes rolling with the sheer ridiculousness of his anger, he was still incredibly distrustful in general, thank you very much Miles, and if she were to just disappear with their baby, it would likely push him over the edge. 

Not that having his pregnant wife kidnapped was any better. Charlie reached up to rub her temples. “Where are you taking me?” she finally asked, tiredly.

“Home,” Rachel answered like it was obvious.

Charlie sighed. “Wisconsin or Indiana?”

Rachel looked at her oddly. “Neither. Texas.”

“Texas?” Charlie asked, bemused “Fucking fantastic,” she breathed, with a shake of her head. Carver was the bane of her existence and it was doubtful he would help her as he lived to piss off Bass. With nothing more to say, Charlie fell silent as the carriage sped along.

“How could you?” Rachel finally asked after they’d stared at each other for the better part of an hour. “He killed your father.”

“Actually, he didn’t,” Charlie replied as she looked at her mother.

“It was his orders. Same difference.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes. “Whose fault was it that you and Miles cheated on dad?” she asked, watching the blood drain from her mother’s face. 

Rachel went mulishly silent then and Charlie closed her eyes in relief. 

* * *

When they finally came to a stop, Charlie climbed out of the carriage and promptly threw up.

When Rachel didn’t make an effort to go to her, Miles approached her, pulling back her hair and holding out a bottle of water. Charlie mumbled her thanks, breathing through the rest of it before rinsing her mouth out. 

“Hold your hands out,” he ordered, holding a pair of cable ties, eyeing her impassively. 

The corner of Charlie’s lip curled up at as she held out her hands. 

If the guard’s uniform and the sound of the train whistle in the background were any indication, they were going to hitch a ride on the southbound train to get her out of the Republic. She snorted when a bag was put over her head.

“You realize Bass is going to kill you, right?” Charlie asked her uncle as he took her by the arm. “That is if I don’t.” 

She felt Miles trip and look back at her mother as they continued on, but he stayed quiet.

Her mother took a hold of her as Miles stepped away, speaking to the soldier in charge. They were directed to an empty car, bunks bolted to the floor for the troops. Keeping her wrists bound, Miles pulled the bag off her head and waved at the compartment. Charlie rolled her eyes and picked a bunk to sit upon. “What was in the note?” she asked, looking over at Miles.

“I told him where we were taking you.”

“You’re going to make him choose between me and the Republic,” she spat out bitterly.

Miles shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out if he’s as devoted to you as you are to him.”

Charlie didn’t reply, just stared at him until she made him uncomfortable enough to move away. Turning her back to both of them, Charlie laid down on the bunk and tried to relax.

* * *

She woke a few hours later to a sudden nausea that had her leaning over the bunk and vomiting.

“Jesus, Charlie,” Miles muttered, the first to reach her, pulling her hair back and shoving a bucket under her mouth as Rachel came over to press a wet cloth against her head. “When did you become motion sick, kid?” 

“Evidently, today,” Charlie replied, rinsing her mouth out with water and spitting it into the bucket. She wasn’t about to tell them about her pregnancy, or that her morning sickness had kicked in full force a few days ago. Another reason Bass had been reluctant for her to go to the hospital this morning, as much as he was trying not to hover.

With a breathy whimper, causing Miles and Rachel to look at her in concern, Charlie laid back down, missing Bass’ arms. He had taken to napping with her for an hour in the afternoons when she could simply no longer keep her eyes open thanks to all the changes going on in her body. She didn’t realize how dependent she’d become on his quiet presence beside her, until he was gone. Knowing they’d be traveling a few more hours, she finally drifted off to sleep. 

It was dark when they woke her and she was just as tired as when she laid down. She took a moment, waiting to see if her stomach planned on rebelling before standing, swaying slightly on her feet.

“We’ll get a room tonight and then find you some suitable clothes before heading out tomorrow.” Miles said, looking her over.

Charlie jutted her jaw out as she reached up to rub the pearls Bass had given her just last week. “Had I known I was going to be kidnapped again, I would have dressed suitably,” Charlie replied dryly.

“Again?” Rachel asked shrilly.

Charlie waved her off. “It was a misunderstanding.”

Miles eyed her for a moment before taking Rachel by the elbow, guiding her to the door to disembark, before following after her and turning to help Charlie who had on a pair of heels.

“Don’t you dare judge me,” Charlie hissed at him. “I did what I had to do.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that for me!” Miles growled back.

“You didn’t have to! I did it because I love you!”

Drawing himself up to his full height, Miles pursed his lips and took her by the arm, guiding her away from the train. Rachel fell in behind them, staying quiet while Miles got them two rooms and dinner at the local boarding house. Charlie wolfed her dinner down, despite her earlier nausea, and after slipping off her shoes, passed out face down on the bed only to sleep the entire night through.

* * *

Amusingly enough it’s Miles, who brings her a pack filled with the essentials the next morning. “I remembered your sizes from before. Got as close as I could.”

“Thanks,” Charlie replied with a nod, shutting the door just in time to rush over to the nearby basin and throw up. She ate a plain biscuit, leftover from last nights dinner and waited for her stomach to settle before dumping the contents of the pack on her bed and dressing in the clean but worn clothing Miles had been able to find her. Wiggling in her toes in the roominess of the boots, she carefully packed her dress, heels and jewelry into the pack. She’d see what Miles had to secure her wedding ring.

Looking around the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, she met her family downstairs where Miles presented her with a crossbow and a sword. Holding onto them both, Charlie looks up at him, a calculating mask sliding over her features. “What’s to keep me from killing you and going home to him?” she asks, ignoring her mother’s sudden intake of breath.

Miles looks at her shrewdly, thinking about everything he had learned about her from his spies in the Republic. “You’re gonna wanna hear what I have to say. Besides,” he shrugged, “You know as well as I do now that Bass has helicopters he’ll be waiting for us when we get there.”

“Lead the way,” she finally agreed.

The threesome cross over the border into Georgia and slowly make their way across the federation through various modes of transportation. Charlie is fascinated with the steam powered buses and is determined to speak to Bass about them when they return home. 

“Good luck,” Miles huffs as he looks out the window as Rachel sleeps next to him, head pillowed on his shoulder. “He always flat out refused when I brought it up.”

Charlie hums, before meeting his eyes. “Bass is incredibly pliant when he’s been satiated. I’m surprised you never figured that out.”

Miles mouth snaps shut.

* * *

She’s quiet for a few days after she learns about Danny and Nora. She doesn’t even bother to hide her morning sickness, simply explaining it away as the disgust she feels for her mother, the eleven-year-old in her lashing out. 

Not even Miles dared to incur her wrath by intervening, as much to blame as Rachel for where they all ended up.  Instead he tells her about the Patriots and what they believe their intent to be. 

Charlie’s eyes glowed at the thought of someone trying to take over her home. Her republic. She’d given up so much and worked so hard for a better life and these assholes thought they were going to come in and take over? She’d see about that.

It takes them nearly two months to get to Willoughby, and the further they go, the more terrified Rachel is. 

Her daughter is a killer. 

The lapdog of President Sebastian Monroe and he’s got the wool pulled so far over her eyes, she doesn’t even realize it. It drives a wedge even further between them as Rachel can never seem to hold her tongue, and it quickly escalates into a screaming match between the two women.

* * *

When they reach Willoughby, it’s only to discover the town on lock down, being threatened by the Andover clan. Miles quickly finds Bass, as he knew he would, and pulls out a piece of glass to get his attention.

Charlie watches the flashes carefully, shaking her head in disgust before intervening, and Miles has to admit that her plan to create a kill box is better than anything he and Bass would have come up with on their own. It’s as they’re packing up their things to move out, that the knowledge slams into Miles like a freight train. He grabs her wrist, spinning her back around to look at him, nose flaring.

“General Monroe,” she smirks. “At your service.”

“What is she talking about?” Rachel demands as Miles lets Charlie go and takes a step back.

“Just a little strategy, Mother,” Charlie answers, keeping her eyes on Miles.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he replied gruffly.

“Will we?” Charlie asks with a tilt of her head, walking backwards away from him, before sprinting off to get in position.


	9. Chapter 9

Two hours later and the Andover clan is lying dead at their feet with only minor injuries to the townspeople. 

Miles has his back turned to the gate when Bass suddenly bellow’s Charlie’s name. 

Turning, he watches Charlie go from fearless Valkyrie, taking off men’s heads, literally, to a Philadelphia socialite, lost amongst all the blood and gore of the battlefield, and everything clicks perfectly into place. 

Charlie has managed to become something Miles never could. Charlie has managed to become everything. The lover, the fighter, the nurturer and the needy. 

Bass strides towards his wife quickly and Miles continues to watch as Charlie throws herself into his arms, breaking down into tears. He’s even more surprised when she nods her head and Bass drops down to his knees in front of her and presses his face against her stomach. Charlie’s comment about Bass killing him reverberates in his head.

It’s only seconds before Bass stands, scooping her up into his arms and begins to carry her back into town. Charlie has an arm wrapped around his neck, eyes closed as she cries softly against his shoulder. “I’m taking her home. She needs to rest,” Bass informs Miles, the offer to join them clear. 

Miles supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that Bass has taken up residence in the mayor’s house, looking around the first floor as Bass carries Charlie into a bedroom at the back of the house. There are rooms upstairs, but if there's no plumbing, he assumes there’s a tub in the kitchen, following along when Bass emerges and heads that way.

“You kidnapped my wife,” Bass said as he moved around the kitchen, drawing water from the indoor pump, setting it to heat on the stove in the three-season porch.

Miles rolled his eyes. “You don’t own her, Bass.”

“You kidnapped my  _ pregnant _ wife,” Bass bit out.

Miles had the decency to look away. “Yeah, sorry about that, I had no idea.”

“Thank you,” Bass replied on an exhale, turning to look out the kitchen window.

Miles felt as though he’d been knocked over with a feather. “Excuse me?”

Taking a deep breath, Bass turned back around. “Thank you. If it wasn’t for you, she and I would both be dead in the ruins of Philadelphia.”

Miles shook his head in confusion. “What are you talking about, Bass?”

Bass shook his head, his eyes watering as he ran a hand through his hair. “Two weeks ago the Patriots dropped “MOAB’s” on Philly and Atlanta.”

“What! How do you know that?” Miles demanded.

Picking up a piece of paper, Bass handed it to him. 

There, in black and white print, was a headline pronouncing “Philly and Atlanta Gone! Presidents Foster and Monroe killed in their beds!!”

Miles stumbled back into a chair.

“It’s gone. Our home is gone,” Bass says wretchedly, moving to pour the now boiling water into a tub and starting the process all over again.

“Carver knows you’re here?” Miles asks, getting back to his feet.

“Carver was assassinated the same day. Blanchard’s in charge now,” Bass replied. “I’d like Gene to take a look at Charlie. Would you mind getting him for me? I don’t want to leave her.”

Miles made his way to the door, only to stop and turn back around. “We should talk sometime,” he said, before turning once again and continuing on his way.

* * *

Finished filling the tub, Bass retrieved Charlie from where he left her resting and brought her to the porch, helping to strip off her clothes and getting her into the tub, before kneeling down beside her.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said softly, reaching out to stroke his jaw.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he tells her, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand. “You were taken. Anything you did, you did for the safety of our child.”

He watches as her shoulders visibly sag in relief at his absolution. Picking up a cloth and the soap he had bought with her in mind, he begins to bathe her, keeping the conversation purposely light. 

He’d just finished rinsing her hair when she finally asked the question he’d been dreading. 

“When can we go home?” 

The knock at the door saved him from answering.

“That’ll be your Grandfather,” Bass explained, toweling her off before helping her pull on the robe he had lying nearby. 

* * *

“Gene,” Bass nodded, letting the older man into the house.

Stepping inside, Gene came to a stop at the sight of his granddaughter. “Charlie?”

Charlie smiled, taking a step toward him. “Hey, Grandpa.”

“You look just like your grandmother,” Gene replied as he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing gently before pulling back. “I hear you're going to make me a great-grandfather.”

Charlie smiled, her eyes meeting Bass’ over Gene’s shoulder. “Yeah. Sometime in January.”

“Congratulations. Why don’t we go upstairs and make sure you and the little one are doing okay?”

Charlie nodded when Bass smiled back at her and let herself be led up the stairs, to a large bedroom facing the front of the house. 

Gene asked Charlie questions about her overall health as he listened to her heart and lungs before taking her blood pressure. Having her lay back, he pressed gently on her belly and nodded in satisfaction.

“Everything looks good,” he finally announced. ”Plenty of food and rest. Keep the stress to a minimum,” he instructed, looking at Bass pointedly before packing up his bag. “It’s good to have you here, sweetheart,” he said to Charlie. “Lets catch up soon, okay?”

Charlie gave him a nod and smile as they both thanked him, before watching him leave, the sound of the front door closing echoing throughout the house.

Standing, Charlie took off her robe, laying it at the end of the bed. Holding out a hand, she waited for Bass to join her, sighing as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

“Bass,” she murmured, tangling the fingers of one hand in the collar of his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss, as the other snaked underneath, raking her nails over his abdomen. 

Pulling his shirt off, Bass leaned in for another kiss, swallowing her whimpers as their flesh came into contact. Cupping her breast he gave it a soft squeeze, thumbing her nipple as he continued to kiss her, his thigh coming up to press against her core, the damp heat permeating his trousers.

Handling her carefully, he walked her backwards towards the bed, pushing her down and encouraging her further up it’s surface as he finished undressing. 

When he followed, he pressed forward to take one of her nipples into her mouth. She cried out at the sensation of his tongue laving over her areola before he sought out her mouth once again. Her cries turned into whimpers as his tongue did the most delightful things inside of her mouth as her nipples slid over his golden skin, the warmth of his chest against her own one of her favorite sensations.

Reaching a hand between them, he finds her wet and ready. Pressing two fingers into her, he swipes his thumb against her clit, her hips arching into his touch, as she moaned softly.

Bass rolled them over, letting Charlie's hair envelope them as she slid her wet folds up and down his cock before grasping him long enough to sheath him inside her body. 

Reaching out, Bass grabbed her hips, holding her steady as she whipped her hair out of the way and slowly began to move, her other hand resting on his chest as she found a steady rhythm.

It didn't take long before Charlie gasped, her pussy clutching at his cock drawing him over the edge with her, their extended absence keenly felt.

* * *

Afterwards, they lay quietly, wrapped up in each other after their prolonged separation while Bass traced circles over her abdomen. “You’ve gotten bigger I think,” he whispered with a kiss to her temple. 

Charlie simply hummed as the warmth of the afternoon made her want to nap. 

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Bass sighed.

“I read my mother's journals, Bass. Just don’t tell the kid you slept with both it’s mother and grandmother and we’ll be good.”

Bass groaned. “Charlie.”

“I’m not saying it’s alright, because it’s not. It actually makes me nauseous if I think about it too much, however, you may in fact, deserve an award for the most faithful husband in Philadelphia,” she said, looking up at him, “and that’s what’s important to me.” 

Brushing his hand across the side of her face, Bass cupped her cheek, leaning down to kiss her. 

“I love you, Charlie. Not your mother.”

“I know that, Bass. That’s why we're never going to talk about this again.”

“There was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about,” Bass replied, holding her tighter. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking up at him. 

“We’re not going home. We’re going to be staying in Texas.”

Charlie blinked. “Excuse me?”

“It’s too dangerous. We’re going to fight the Patriots from here.”

Pulling away from him, Charlie pushed up on one hand. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Bass swallowed, blinking back tears. “Philly’s gone, Charlie. So is Atlanta. The Patriots bombed them. If Miles and Rachel hadn’t taken you when they had, we’d both be dead.”

Charlie’s forehead creased as she tried to take in what Bass was telling her. “Jeremy? Kip? Our home?”

“I’m sorry,” Bass whispered brokenly. “You all counted on me to keep you safe, and I failed.”

“Us. They were counting on us,” Charlie murmured, all of her hopes and dreams for her baby wafting away on a warm Texas breeze. 

Pulling her back down, Bass pressed a kiss to her forehead, running a hand soothingly up and down her back. 

“What do we do now?” Charlie asked a hand coming up to rest on her protruding abdomen. 

“Now we fight. We fight for this,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the side of her mouth as he covered her hand with his own, “we fight for our family.”

~End~


End file.
